


The Gray-Rain Curtain Rolls Back

by unluckyrose



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Death, Humanstuck, M/M, ghost au, mystery element, ooo spooky ghosts, sucky jobs, there's some dark themes but of course there are cause its a story with ghosts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-10-18 07:29:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10612131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unluckyrose/pseuds/unluckyrose
Summary: Karkat's sure that his life couldn't possibly get harder than it is right now. So, of course, it's just his luck that he's being fucking haunted now.He finds himself the target of the recently deceased Dave Strider, an annoying as hell ghost that has no interest in explaining what the fuck is going on at any point, and also has to deal with the unexpected ripple effect this causes on everyone.





	1. Welcome to Retail Hell

**Author's Note:**

> Contains some possibly triggering material later on, warnings can be found at the end of each chapter to avoid spoilers. If you're worried, you can message me for the full list.
> 
> I've been planning this fic for months actually, so I decided I'd finally start it as a sort of 4/13 special! If you would like to chat with me about the story or anything, my tumblr is https://unluckyrose.tumblr.com/

Karkat saw someone move in the corner of his eye and internally sighed. He silently prayed whoever it was would just move on without talking to him, and stooped to pick up another box. It seemed like he hadn't checked his calendar that morning and had missed his warning that today was national ‘don’t bother showing up to work today, just let Karkat do all your work for you!’ day. Two of his co-workers had called off sick, leaving him and one other worker pretty much by themselves for the entire day. It was finally nearing late enough that barely anyone was in the store, and he'd thought he was finally free from annoying customers.

No one spoke to him as he very determinedly made himself busy stocking cans of soup on the shelf, so maybe he was in the clear and wouldn't have to regret having this shit job more than he already did. He spent the next ten minutes in a monotonous cycle of grab new box from cart, take can out, stack can on shelf with the label facing forward, and repeat. The only noise was the radio that constantly played in the store so visiting customers wouldn't be consumed by the soul-sucking silence, though none of the songs were good enough to be worth listening to even if he could properly hear them over the shitty speakers.

Finally, he emptied the last box, sighed with relief, and leaned against the end of the aisle. How did he even run on this little energy? When he got home he'd have to eat the unhealthiest thing in his kitchen and fall asleep on the couch while watching Netflix to make up for this shitty day. Yeah… he’d take a shower, put on his loosest pajama pants and fuzzy sweater, take a spoon to a tub of ice cream if he wanted. He could treat his damn self.

“Um, excuse me, Vantas,” someone said to his right, pulling him out of his short and imaginary reprieve. It was his co-worker, a tall man with straight, shoulder-length black hair and body odor that couldn't be escaped unless you left the fucking building. 

“Yes?” Karkat asked, crossing his arms but not moving otherwise.

“I thought you had been working here quite awhile, before I even joined this working team,” his co-worker continued.

“Don't fucking remind me,” Karkat muttered.

“Language, Vantas. Just because there are no customers in the store doesn't mean you shouldn't be professional,” his co-worker put his hands on his hips, a pretty amusing sight on a muscled, 6’3’’ man. 

“Make me, Equius. You're not the boss. Our boss couldn't even bother to fucking show up today with everyone just taking a goddamn vacation, that's how little anyone gives a fuck about being professional around here,” Karkat snapped, throwing up his hands and straightening up. 

“I understand you are upset with the lack of help around today, but I would ask you remember that Nepeta is not out of her own choice. She is visiting a family member out of state to help them through a loss, and you should appreciate that she is kind enough to take time off for others. Besides, if you continue this conduct, I could report you to our manager. Purposefully doing your job wrong and cursing while the store is open is surely something I  _ should _ be reporting.”

“Okay, first, fuck off,” Karkat started, pointing a threatening finger at him. He wasn't actually afraid of Equius’s threats, the guy knew Karkat was one of the few who did any fucking work around here, and the store couldn't afford to lose him. Speaking of, “second, what do you mean purposefully doing my job wrong?”

Equius motioned down the aisle Karkat had just finished stocking. “That's what I came to ask you about. You stocked the cans backwards.”

Karkat flipped around and looked back at the aisle. Every single can he had just stocked was turned around so the label was facing inwards, hiding what the contents of the cans were. He swore so loudly Equius flinched beside him and whispered, “Vantas, please.”

Karkat spun back around, seething. “I stocked those correctly the first time, some fucking customer must think they're the funniest motherfucker to walk the earth! Giving more work to the minimum wage retail worker, what a great fucking joke!”

“Vantas, heaven's sake,” Equius almost whined, “No one appreciates this language. Besides, I just said there are no customers in the store right now.”

“I- wait, there isn't?” Karkat frowned. Or, frowned more than he already was. “I just saw one ten minutes ago.”

Equius tilted his head in confusion. “I've been by the door for the past hour and no one's come in.”

“What the fuck?” Karkat glanced back down the aisle. He had seen someone, hadn't he? He heard Equius sigh and return to wherever the fuck he was working. “I guess I'll just fix the cans my-fucking-self,” Karkat muttered. He spun the nearest can and started his way all the way back to where he started.

When he'd finally finished straightening out all the cans, spinning around the ones on the bottom shelf last, he stood and cracked his back. That was it, he was getting two gallons of ice cream. He didn't care if he couldn't possibly eat that much, no way could he stay sane if he didn't get some kind of compensation for this.

“Karkat,” Equius called from the other end of the soup aisle, “I thought you were fixing these.”

Karkat turned to face Equius, and groaned. All the cans in the first half of the aisle were turned around again. He longed to bang his head on the metal shelves. “Okay, what the fuck. Is this a prank? Is this you trying to prank me right now? Did Terezi or Vriska put you up to this?”

“Of course not, I don't have time for foolishness.” Equius returned to his own work and Karkat stomped over the first the cans again, suppressing the urge to smash one of the cans over someone's head. His own head, maybe. Whatever the fuck.

When all the cans were facing the right direction again, he faced the whole soup aisle and narrowed his eyes. “Well? You wanna try it again, asshole?”

There was silence. Then, suddenly, there was a heavy hand on his shoulder and he yelped, flinging up his hands for self-defense. Equius stood back and held up his hands in a peaceful gesture. 

“Um, Vantas, it seems you could use a break for the sake of your mental health,” Equius said slowly, obviously concerned. “I saw some customers heading in, so perhaps you should take the cash register.”

Karkat rubbed his face with his hands. “You know what, fine, good idea. You deal with the fucking devil soup aisle, I'll deal with idiots who can't count their change in less than a fucking millennium.” He shoved past Equius before he could respond and around the counter to stand behind the only register they had in the damn store. Over the next few minutes a couple walked in, bought some cigarettes and candy bars like this was a damn gas station, and left.

With a long sigh that almost felt like his soul leaving his body, he thumped his head down on the cold counter and folded his arms. He was going insane and wanted to go home. 

“Wow dude, you okay?” Someone asked above him. Oh right, customers were a thing.

“I make minimum wage and I've been working since 8am, what the fuck is okay?” He said, not even looking up. Oh look at that, he couldn't even summon the energy to give a fuck about being professional. Maybe he'd get lucky and be fired. 

“Well shit, man, that sucks,” the stranger said. 

There was silence. Well, except for the constant drone of whatever shit was on the radio. After way too long of the stranger not moving and Karkat smushing his face into the cold counter, Karkat looked up at him. It wasn't like a customer would just go away or anything.

Karkat felt a spike of fear when his eyes landed on him and just barely stopped himself from jumping back. He didn’t know why, because the customer wasn’t intimidating-looking in the slightest. He looked around 17 or 18 years old at most, and was leaning against the conveyer belt, twirling one of the dividers in his hand like a baton. He was also rather short, though probably taller than Karkat who was 5’1’’, but he certainly looked like the kind of guy who had to balance on stacks of books to get something from the cupboard rather than ask for help. The stranger was wearing a simple red t-shirt and some jeans, though the intense color contrasted weirdly with his incredibly pale skin. The weirdest thing was the pair of reflective shades that took up a large portion of his face even though it wasn’t bright at all. 

Despite the fact the stranger really shouldn’t scare him, a weird chill went down Karkat’s spine with every random detail he took in. Everything about him just seemed so… wrong? The guy's hair was such a bright shade of blonde, but the second he noted that some voice in his head said, 'no, that's not right’. He was spinning the divider-baton with a surprising amount of dexterity, 'but that's not possible’. His face, what could be seen of it, was completely blank and unreadable, 'but how can it be?’. It was like everything about this guy was Karkat going through a math problem he had learned how to solve years ago, and is remembering the different steps but not how to put them together. Yes, pale skin, shades, and blonde hair added together made this guy, but somehow that isn't quite the right answer yet.

He found himself fighting to stay still as his fight or flight reflex went fucking crazy.

The guy tossed the divider into the air and it landed perfectly on the conveyer where it had been before. “Was it part of your cashier training to learn how to stare at customers?” He asked.

Karkat glared. “No, but it's my policy to kick your ass out of my checkout line if you're not buying anything.”

“Wow, okay,” the guy raised his hand in front of his chest in mock offense. “I'm just being a good samaritan and giving the poor overworked cashier some company.”

“Didn't ask for it. Buy or get out.” Karkat pushed away from the counter and crossed his arms, staring down the unsettling stranger right in his sunglasses.

“Kay.” The guy stuck his hands in his pockets and walked backwards into the aisles.

Karkat sighed in relief and sagged against the back of the little cubicle. Jesus, what was that about? He rubbed his arms a little, willing that weird chill to go away. That was just a normal dude, why was he so freaked out? Ugh. Even so, he stick one hand in his pocket to fiddle with his phone, a nervous habit that meant he always had 911 at the ready.

After a long while without the guy returning, Karkat glanced out the window. Outside, the town was as quiet as it ever was. The sun had set and they were only about 45 minutes from finally reaching closing time. He really couldn't wait to be done with this. Maybe if he quit he could get a job at a fast food place.

The door swung open and someone bustled in. Wow, about fucking time there was some actual customers in the store. How did this place even stay in business?

The stranger, a young woman in a big lavender overcoat, walked over. “Sorry I'm here so late; I didn't interrupt your closing, I hope?”

Karkat managed to fake a smile. “Nope, we don't close til 9, miss.”

“Oh good, damn buses and state lines-” she kept talking as she wandered off to the back of the store. It was pretty common to find hassled travellers running in to grab some bare nutrition before going on their way again, and Karkat welcomed the normality.

It took her only about three minutes to find what she needed and Karkat mechanically scanned the doritos, duct tape, hair pins, and pizza rolls. The woman was gone as quickly as she came, purple coat swishing behind her.

Again Karkat was left with nothing to do. He considered going back and trading jobs with Equius again, or cleaning, or anything else productive, but felt sinking exhaustion at the idea of doing anything. Instead he played around on his phone until five minutes to close, hoping his boss wouldn't bother checking the cameras.

It was about then he realized he never saw the unsettling guy come back. He should probably go find him and kick him out of the store so they could close. He followed the way he remembered him disappearing, and walked the aisles until he found him.

God damn it. God, fucking- “God dammit how the fuck did I know you'd be here?” Karkat facepalmed and sighed heavily at the scene before him. He was again in the soup aisle, only now he found all the cans taken off the shelf and stacked neatly two inches in front of where they should be. He found the creepy stranger about halfway down the aisle, a can of chicken noodle in his hand and a frown of concentration as he carefully stacked it above his own head on an ever-growing tower.

“I don't know, you're psychic? Oh man, we're Sybil all up in here, Seeing all my moves before they happen. How can I hope to compete?” he replied, completely monotone while he took another can off the shelf and added it to the tower.

“What in the fuck do you think you're doing here, you shitwaffle?” Karkat snapped, stomping over and snatching a can of tomato soup from the man's hand. 

“Who would even make a waffle out of shit?” 

“Your mom!” Karkat waved the can, “Get the fuck out of my store before I call the cops!”

“Heh. Good luck with that.” With that, the guy just stuck his hands in his pockets and waltzed out the front doors.

Karkat eventually found Equius, explained that he had found the customer messing with the soup and kicked him out, then decided to just go home and leave the cleanup to Equius. It was a pretty shitty thing to do, and he'd feel bad about it later, but right now all he could think about was eating ice cream right out of container like a heartbroken woman in a TV sitcom. Speaking of, he grabbed a box of strawberry out of the freezer and had Equius ring him up quick, then he was out the door.

He had never felt as free as he did when the night air hit him and he was washed over with the distant sounds of city life. The parking lot outside was small, since they were a very small grocery store that didn't get nearly enough customers to fill the tiny lot they did have. The only car there was Equius's truck, since Karkat lived in an apartment building just a few blocks down.

He took a deep breath of fresh air, letting it completely fill his lungs, then let it all out in woosh, washing away the day's troubles. Clutching his box of ice cream, he swung around and strode down the sidewalk to his apartment building.

He went through a mental checklist as his feet clicked on the stone. He'd decided to give himself the rest of the night off to deal with the stress, but tomorrow he would have to play a bit of catch up. He wasn't in college as of now, and he wasn't quite sure why. He just felt… too busy for it. He was sure he'd go next year, but he needed a job that he could juggle school with better. In the meantime, he'd taken up several small jobs aside from the store, most of which he'd accidentally been neglecting through lack of energy. Nepeta had paid him to take care of her plants while she was away-which reminded him, he would have to text her to see how that deal with her cousin and the funeral went- and if he didn't follow through on that, they'd die. Then he'd feel awful cause he killed his friend's plants AND stole her money. Terezi had made him promise to help her with her criminology class by being the subject of some 'social experiment’ on Monday, too. It sounded suspicious as hell, but it meant he'd have to find the energy to wash more clothes than just his work outfit this weekend. God, what else did he have to do?

“Oh hey dude, fancy meeting you out here,” a voice said, and Karkat froze in place.

“Are you fucking stalking me?” He whirled around, hand going for his phone. “Don't tell me you're gonna fucking mug me, I don't have anything but ice cream on me anyway.” 

The unsettling stranger held up his hands to show he didn't have any weapons. “No way, man, just wanted to have a friendly bro chat and walk you home. We're getting downright fraternal, chilling in the middle of the night.”

“I'm going to fucking die.” Karkat meant to facepalm, but was still holding the ice cream in his other hand and ended up smacking himself in the face with the frozen solid container. The man snickered. 

“I mean, I'm not going to kill you, really,” the guy said, sticking his hands in his pockets again. His shades reflected the streetlight in a glare that made Karkat blink. “Whatever happened to friendly chats between strangers? Sharing your woes to an open ear at the bus stop? Drunkenly rambling about your life's problems to the barkeep?”

“Giving all your personal information to a creepy customer who rearranged your soup aisle then followed you into the dark?” Karkat suggested sarcastically. “Go the fuck away, I'm not letting you follow me home.”

The guy shrugged. “I mean, I'm coming home with you anyway. Kinda have to.”

Karkat felt a trickle of dread go through his whole body, leaving his blood cold. Holy shit he really was about to be kidnapped and killed and this is so not how he wanted to go-

“I'm calling the police.” He risked pulling out his phone and quickly dialling the three numbers.

“All that'll happen is you'll be dragged off to a mental ward, man, don't bother,” the stranger shrugged again.

Karkat couldn't help but freeze before hitting call. “...Why would that be?” He asked slowly. Oh god why wasn’t he running yet?

The stranger smirked. “Cause you're shouting at thin air.”

Karkat frowned even more deeply in confusion. The guy was showing no signs of explaining what he meant, still looking very relaxed in the low light of the streetlamp. Except… he was maybe five feet from Karkat now, and maybe it was just the lighting but…

He didn't look… real?

'He’s not right,’ a little part of Karkat's brain told him, 'he's wrong, he's wrong’. Karkat took a shaky breath. “What do you mean?”

The stranger stepped forward, further into the light and closer to Karkat, holding out a hand for a shake. With a jolt of fear, Karkat saw he was right. He could just barely see the light going through the man and hitting the sidewalk, creating no shadow and not hindered by him at all. 

“I'm Dave Strider,” the stranger said, “and I'm dead.”

Karkat turned and ran down the street at full speed.


	2. Phone a Friend

“Kanaya, what the fuck took you so long?!” Karkat tried to whisper in a voice much too panicked to actually be a whisper. 

“It is the middle of the night, Karkat, I was sleeping,” his friend’s voice, laced with exhaustion, came from the phone pinned between his shoulder and ear.

“It's like 10, since when does anyone go to sleep at 10?!” Karkat whispered harshly, too distracted to feel guilty for waking her.

Kanaya sighed. “What do you need, Karkat? Why are you whispering?”

“You know all this fictional occult bullshit, right? What stops ghosts?” Karkat paced back and forth across the living room of his apartment, simultaneously watching his door like a hawk and trying not to look at it. What if it followed him? Fuck fuck fuck

“Excuse me?”

“You watch and read all that vampire shit, doesn't that have ghosts in it?” Karkat snapped impatiently. “Well, what stops them?”

Kanaya was quiet for a second, then said, “Iron? A line of salt in the doorway? I believe some burn sage to ward off evil spirits.” She yawned. “Karkat why in the name of any and all deities did you wake me up for this?”

“It's an emergency!” Karkat turned and ran into his kitchen so quickly he skidded on the tile. He wouldn't have any iron in his shitty apartment, why the fuck would he, but he was sure he had salt somewhere. Maybe that would work for tonight and one of his friends would have some sage he could borrow tomorrow.

“An emergency involving ghosts in popular fiction?” Kanaya’s voice was somewhere between concerned and decidedly unamused.

“Not in popular fiction, in popular fucking reality!” Karkat spotted the can of salt on his shelf and grabbed it. He ripped off the top and and ran back to his front door, almost flinging the salt down onto the floor. “They're fucking real, I swear to god, and one's been following me!”

There was a very, very  _ worried _ pause.

“Okay I understand that I sound kind of fucking insane,” he amended, “but I'm 100% serious right now. He was see-through!”

“... Karkat, I think you may be working too hard. Perhaps it would be best if you stayed with a friend tonight-”

“I'm not crazy, Kanaya,” Karkat growled, “I'm going to be killed by a ghost! Anyway I can't go to someone else's place, I'll just lead it to them.”

“Are you aware how concerning this all is?” There was a shuffling on Kanaya's side of the phone. “I think I should come over and-”

“No no no, don't fucking come and put yourself in danger,” Karkat urged, crouching in front of the door to make sure the salt was in a perfect line. Once he was satisfied he retreated all the way to the far wall of his kitchen, as far away from the door as he could be without it being out of sight. His kitchen and living room were basically the same room, with only a change in the flooring to indicate the difference, so he didn’t have the cover of a wall. At least a door to his right in the kitchen opened to his bedroom, and if he could get in there the fire escape was right outside his window. “Unless you have something iron that could stop it. Or sage.”

“I will be right there, please don't do anything too serious,” Kanaya said, and there was a click.

“Shit, no, Kanaya!” Karkat pulled his phone away and glared at the 'call ended’ display on his screen. “You god damn fucking reasonable good friend!” He tossed his phone back into the living room, where it hit the couch and fell onto the cushions. “Being worried about me when I act crazy, can't just believe me and go the fuck back to sleep!”

“You have a really weird way of insulting someone,” a voice said. Karkat jumped a mile and smacked his back painfully into the kitchen counter behind him. The ghost was standing right next to the door, leaning against the wall.

“How did you get in?!” Karkat shouted.

Dave raised an eyebrow over his sunglasses. Instead of saying anything out loud, he just stepped backwards through the wall, then forwards again and returned to leaning against it.

Karkat reached behind him and pulled open the nearest drawer. As soon as his fingers closed around something he flung it towards the ghost with a shout. It flew right through Dave’s head and made a 'cling’ as it bounced off the wall. For a quiet moment, they both stared at the object on the floor.

“What in the fuck were you expecting this to do?” Dave asked, crouching to pick up the spoon. His hand went right through it the first time and he mumbled, “Shit,” but the second time he managed to scoop it into his hand. 

“I don't fucking know, something to save my life.” Karkat’s eyes scanned the room, desperately looking for something else to use as a weapon. Why was his apartment so small and filled with useless things? Fuck fuck,

“Okay, dude, you know I'm not going to hurt you, right?” Dave straightened up, twirling the spoon in his hand. “Like, ooooo, spooky ghost, how scary, but I'm not going to start throwing things around and possessing people or whatever it is ghosts do.”

“How the fuck am I supposed to believe that? I didn't know ghosts were real until now, you could be a horrible fucking liar for all I know!” Karkat stepped forward a bit, wondering if he could make it around the ghost and bolt through the door.

Dave shrugged. “I didn't know ghosts were real until now either, man. Haven’t been dead that long, I’m as new to this as you are.” He tossed the spoon up into the air and caught it in his other hand. “It’s not like you have a choice anyway. I’m haunting you, I can just follow you forever.”

“That’s comforting,” Karkat muttered, “Here’s a tiny fucking question; why exactly are you haunting me? Who the fuck are you and why are you a ghost?”

“That’s three questions.”

“Shut the fuck up and answer them!”

“Geez, calm down dude.” Dave let the spoon fall through his hand and clank onto the floor, then held up his fingers as he counted. “One, I’m haunting you cause why the hell not, two, I told you, I’m Dave, and three, I’m a ghost cause I’m dead. There ya go.”

Karkat rolled his eyes and made a motion to cross his arms, but quickly stopped himself because he wouldn’t be able to fight if his arms were pinned. He probably wouldn’t be able to fight a ghost anyway, but he was in full self-defense mode now. “Wow, those answers were very helpful and not at all vague. I’m so grateful for the knowledge you’ve imparted on me.”

“You’re welcome,” Dave did a fingergun in Karkat’s direction then flopped down on the couch. Karkat remained against the counter, still glaring suspiciously at the ghost. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me now, stuck like glue. Like double-sided tape, except it actually works instead of falling off after like a day. Stuck like macaroni on a child’s art project. Hang that shit on the fridge, mom, cause it’ll last forever.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Dave leaned back and laid his arms on the back of the couch. “What I’ve been telling you. I’m your ghost now, and I’m not going anywhere. That’s all. Simple truth. So like, just calm the fuck down already. I’m the one who’s dead, anyway.”

Karkat thought about his situation. Clearly he had no way of hurting the ghost, and if the ghost wanted to hurt him it probably would have done so already. “So…” He slowly stepped forward so he wasn’t backed into the counter anymore, but stayed far from the change in flooring that separated the kitchen and living room. “What’s your plan here? If you’re not going to kill me, or throw things around the room, or whatever shit ghosts do?” 

Dave shrugged. “Well, I mean, I am probably going to kill you eventually.”

Karkat stepped back into the counter again. “What the fuck? You’ve said like 12 times you aren’t going to kill me!” 

Dave frowned. “Shit, calm down.  _ I’m _ not going to kill you, or- okay, that was a really bad choice of words. Listen, this ghost stuff is complicated and I’ve had a long shitty day dealing with it. Can you just accept that I’m not going to hurt you tonight and chill?”

Karkat wanted to cry when he remembered, distantly, the plan he had had for relaxing and watching Netflix that night. Things had really gone off the rails. He suddenly remembered the ache in his muscles from standing around the store all day and looked longingly at the soft couch. “What are you going to do tonight, then?” he asked the ghost, “just stand around my apartment like a cryptid, watching me while I sleep and moving everything I own two inches to the left?”

“That’s a great idea.” Dave shifted to the side and slid down so he was laying across the couch now. He was too short to take up the whole couch, so there was still a spot on the very left. “But tonight I think I’m just going to chill and see if ghosts can sleep.”

Karkat let out a sigh and finally walked over to flop down on the free spot of the couch. Well, nothing made sense anymore, he might as well just accept that his life was now a hostage situation. “Okay, fucking enjoy my apartment you creepy fuck.” Keeping one eye on the translucent home invader, he pulled out his phone set it to screencast Netflix onto his TV. 

Before he could get too comfortable, he heard a knock on the door. “Oh fuck, right,” he said, shooting up and running to the door.

He flung it open to find Kanaya standing on the other side. The black mess of her hair was unbrushed, her clothes a little wrinkled, and her face was set in a concerned frown. She was wearing pajamas that were red with little purple cats on them and slip-on shoes. Her eyes flicked down and she sighed softly when she saw the line of salt still in front of the door. He felt a stab of guilt; she wasn’t as put together as she usually was, she had probably run out of her house as quickly as she could. “Greetings, Karkat. Are you alright?”

“I'm fucking amazing, Kanaya,” he sighed, “you really didn't have to come check on me.”

Kanaya stepped forward into the room, over the salt. Karkat almost moved to block her, glancing back at Dave for a moment. The ghost was laying on his stomach now, still completely relaxed and probably watching them under his glasses. It didn't  _ seem _ like the ghost was going to hurt him, tonight at least, but how he be sure he wouldn't hurt her?

“I really feel I had to. Have you done anything besides the salt line?” Her eyes scanned the whole room now, and Karkat saw them move right over the couch where Dave lay without pause. Catching his curious look, Dave sat up and stretched.

“She really can't see me, man,” he said. “More invisible than the nerdy girl in the beginning of every high school movie.  I drop my books and no one ever helps, no matter how many times I drop them in front of the main love interest. The popular girls snicker in the distance and here I am, picking up books while people almost step on me.”

Karkat opened his mouth to tell Dave to shut up, but quickly stopped himself. It probably wouldn't make Kanaya any less concerned if he started talking to thin air. “Um, no. Nothing but the salt line.” 

She stepped over the spoon that was still on the floor and settled on the arm of the couch. Dave scooted backwards out of the way so she didn't sit in him. “Karkat, really, how are you feeling? What made you feel like you were being followed?”

Karkat tried to think of a good reply, but it was quite hard when he was busy glaring over her shoulder at Dave, who was giving her bunny ears. Kanaya noticed his glare and looked back to see what he was looking at. Dave just smirked and stared back at her until she looked back at Karkat with confusion.

What should he tell her? She already thought he was crazy and obviously Dave wouldn't be willing to help him by proving his existence. A silence extended for a few seconds while she blinked at him. She had dark bags under her eyes. Not darker than his, but enough to mar her pretty face.

“Kanaya, are  _ you _ okay?” He asked.

Her eyebrows raised in surprise. “I am fine. Are you avoiding the subject?”

“No, but I think you fucking are. Why do you look like you haven't slept since last ice age?”

“Oh, well, I haven't been sleeping as much lately,” she admitted, “but I will be fine.”

Karkat crossed his arms. “Since when are you the insomniac?”

Kanaya started wringing her hands and looked down at the floor. “I have just had a lot to worry about. But as I said, I will be fine.” Her eyes moved back up to his face and now held a stern glare. “That is not what I came here for. Karkat, why did you feel you were being haunted?”

Karkat's eyes flicked between Dave, who had now sat back and was calmly listening to the conversation, and Kanaya. He sighed. “I don't know, I guess I just saw something in the dark and my mind decided to join my spirit and fucking break. I'm just tired. Like you said, I need to not work 60 hours a day.”

She nodded. “Yes, you seem to have calmed down. Would you like to come spend the night at my house? I'm not sure you should be alone.”

He shook his head. “I'm fine, just go home and go the fuck to sleep.”

She stood and smoothed out her pajamas. “Are you sure? I could just spend the night here.”

Karkat's eyes flickered to Dave again. He couldn't be sure the ghost wouldn't hurt her. “No, I'm serious, go home.” He grabbed her shoulder and started pulling her towards the door. “I’m sorry you came here for nothing, but you should sleep. You can tell me all about what’s wrong tomorrow.”

“I am just trying to help,” she said, but let him pull her out of the apartment.

“Thanks, I don't need it. Go to sleep.” With that, Karkat closed the door. There was quiet for a moment, then he heard her footsteps fade away down the hall towards the stairs.

“Well that was rude,” Dave said behind him.

“Your fucking face is rude, I'm going to bed.” Karkat turned and stormed into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. On second thought, he turned back around opened the door again. “If you come in my room I'm finding an exorcist! And tomorrow you're explaining some shit!” And he slammed the door again.

Not bothering to change his clothes any more than taking off his jeans, he flopped down face-first on his bed. What the FUCK had just happened? What even was this? His life had just decided, ‘Hey you’re not suffering enough, here’s a ghost who may or may not kill you! Also, ghosts are real, and you upset your friend. Have fun, you piece of shit.’ He couldn’t even process this right now, it was all so unbelievable and sudden. Maybe it’d be better once he slept on it.

Well, he reasoned, if Dave really wasn't going to kill him tonight it was safe to sleep. If he was going to kill him, he had absolutely nothing to fight back a ghost with. Might as well just go to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed! I don't tend to respond to comments on my fics so i don't inflate the comment amount, but i do appreciate all of them so much, so thank you! If you'd like to talk to me about the story where i will respond, or get updates, or whatever else, my tumblr is unluckyrose.tumblr.com


	3. Six Feet Under the Coffee Grounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't actually have anything to say except that i dont know where i get these chapter titles and im tired
> 
> anyway we interrupt your fic about ghosts to bring you an entire chapter about coffee

He didn't sleep. Well, he slept a little, like an hour. Which was fucking shocking considering he jumped at the slightest sound and kept turning on his bedside lamp so often anyone looking in his window would think he was having a rave. What a shocker: he didn't exactly feel safe when there was a ghost in his apartment! The most surprising thing was that Dave seemed to respect his wishes, since he didn't see hide or hair of the ghost until he was snapped out of an admittedly light sleep at seven in the goddamn morning.

An unholy grinding sound was coming from his kitchen, which was right outside his bedroom door. He groaned and covered his ears with his pillow. Just his fucking luck. Sleep is illegal, apparently. If he ever dared to have a good night sleep they would probably drag him off to prison for life.

“Fuck! Oh god please stop making that noise,” a voice drifted through the door.

“For fucks sake!” He yelled, rolling out of bed and making a big thump as he hit the floor. The voice and the noise quickly ceased as he stumbled to his feet and to the door, not bothering to untangle himself from the blanket and just letting it trail after him like a robe. He flung the door open with so much force it might have gone through the wall.

He found Dave leaning over the kitchen counter, surrounded by coffee powder. In front of him the coffeemaker was quietly sputtering, as a dying man losing the last of his blood would. When Karkat stepped out, the ghost quickly hopped back and held up his hands. “Not my fault!” He said, looking just about as guilty as humanly possible. “Okay, it's a little my fault. Like, 1% my fault. Or 40%. 5 out of 10 faultness.”

“What. The fuck,” Karkat demanded. “Is this the haunting part? You wreck my kitchen and wake me up from the first time I've managed to grasp the tiniest scrap of rest? I don’t remember that in the classic horror cliches!”

“You've been in there for hours and you only got the _tiniest_ sleep? Dude I've been bored as fuck out here all night.”

“So your next logical leap from, 'wow I sure am bored trespassing in this poor innocent man’s home’ was to 'I guess I'll ruin his coffee machine! He seems like the type of person that can't survive his shitty life without eight cups of coffee in his veins, let's just take that one solace from him!’” Karkat stomped over to the coffee machine, some of the coffee grounds on the floor getting on his blanket. “What did you even do to this thing?”

“Fuck if I know,” Dave shrugged, but stepped back a bit. It was hard to tell with the sunglasses and, well, transparency, but he looked a bit sheepish. “I've never made coffee before. Or drank coffee before. Total coffee virgin, and I was hoping to finally lose my coffee virginity, but it just wasn't meant to be. It flipped its shit the second I touched it.”

Karkat leaned over the counter and pressed his face close to the machine, observing all the damage. “It didn't even do anything, you didn't put water in! What's with the grounds everywhere?”

“So, listen, the thing about being a ghost is, you aren't really solid,” Dave explained, motioning to the open can of coffee grounds on the floor.

Karkat glared at the mess on the tiles. “Then how did you pick it up in the first place?”

“I think it's something you get better at? Like when I first tried picking stuff up it all just fell through my hands but now I can hold things if I really concentrate.” Dave frowned. “But uh, I'm easily distracted.”

“Of course you are.” Karkat thunked his head down on the counter in exasperation. He didn't let himself stew in the stupidity of the situation for long. He _needed_ his coffee. “I'm going to figure out what’s wrong with this machine, or I’m going to figure out how to strangle a ghost. Get the fuck out of my kitchen or practice your shitty ghost powers by cleaning up the floor.”

Dave nodded and stepped backwards until his feet were just outside the kitchen. “Okay then, fine, that’s cool.” It was silent for just enough of a second for Karkat to know the ghost didn’t plan on making himself helpful. “What’s coffee like, anyway?,” Dave continued, “Is it like, you’re gonna fucking die cause you haven’t slept in 48 hours and you have sixty-seven finals to study for and the words on the page don’t make sense anymore, then you drink a cup of coffee and suddenly your brain works again?”

“No,” Karkat muttered, tapping the little digital clock display on the front of the machine. It was completely dead, not displaying anything despite the fact it was plugged in. “it’s a bitter sludge that you drink to make your heart beat so fast you can’t sleep no matter how tired you are.”

“Then why are people so obsessed with it?”

“I don’t fucking know. I just know I get so little sleep I’d never leave my goddamn apartment without it.” Karkat unplugged it then plugged it back in, flipping some switches experimentally. It crackled a little, but nothing happened. “I have no idea what the fuck you did to this. You just touched it and it flipped its shit?”

“Yeah. Well, the little display started flashing and it made that noise, then it just stopped.”

Karkat pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, trying to control his anger bit. He failed, and punched the coffee machine, tearing it out of the wall. It clunked against the wall on the other side of the counter and fell into the sink with a loud bang. “Well fuck then. Guess I have to go to a fucking coffee shop for some bitter sludge on my way to Nepeta's.”

The ghost frowned with exaggeration. “Aw man, poor coffee machine. Did you have to punch it? What’d it ever do to you? It was on it's deathbed, heaving its last breath, then you just fucking punched it in oblivion. Rip in pepperoni,” Dave put a hand over his heart in mock sorrow and wiped an imaginary tear. When Karkat ignored him, Dave tilted his head towards the mess on the floor. “What about that?”

Karkat glanced down at it and sighed. “Fucking whatever, I'll clean it later I guess. I need to get ready.” He spun around and walked back into his room, blanket-cape still trailing behind him.

Judging by the presence he felt as he tossed the blanket onto his bed and began digging in his dresser for clean clothes, Dave had forgotten the rule about not going in his bedroom.

“I mean, I guess I could help clean it up, try out my new ghostie powers and all. Don't know if I really can, though, powder might be beyond me. Like my ghost hands are like, oh, solid objects? Cans? Puppets? Those are cool, you can have those. I'm gonna just randomly make you fuckin drop em though. Then I say, k, what about smaller shit like, I dunno, spoons? Powders? Coffee grounds? And they're like, fuck off. You don't get those. Takes your full concentration to pick em up. Then I'm like, aw man why? And my ghost hands are like, how can I explain shit to you, I'm just hands. Then I end up spending a whole night trying to get the TV to work but I couldn't even touch it so I gave up. That last bit wasn't metaphorical. Or whatever that was I was just saying.”

Karkat continued to ignore him, pulling out clothes for the day and digging out the spare key to Nepeta's house he had. He didn’t have work today, so he didn’t have to dress in his work outfit.

“I also shouldn't help clean up because I'm supposed to be haunting you and I guess ghosts aren't supposed to be helpful? I supposed to be bad and do bad ghost things.”

“What exactly are those things?” Karkat asked, tuning back into the mantra for a second. “You haven't explained a single fucking thing.”

Dave shrugged. “Haunting stuff? I just gotta haunt you bro, it's my job.”

Karkat glared at him in response to that incredibly vague answer, then walked right through Dave to the door in an act of defiance. He was expecting to get a cold shiver or something, but strangely the apparition was warm, like walking through a ray of sunlight. “Yeah? And what sadistic fuck is your boss?” He asked, keeping his head high and refusing to acknowledge the oddity.

“Watch it, jesus that felt fucking weird,” Dave flinched away, then quickly tried to look impassive again. “And I don't know, myself? Reality? It's just the way things are, dude. You become a ghost, you haunt someone.”

“And there are no ghosts that just decide to do something normal with their afterlife? No ghost accountants? Teachers? Authors? Fucking, pawnbrokers, I don't know. Through all history, everyone that died just sat back up and we're like, hey, I'm back, time to fucking hang around abandoned houses and scare the shit out of people?”

“Maybe. You don't know them, you don't know their life. Or afterlife. That's their choice, dog.”

“Don't,” Karkat pointed at him in warning, walking backwards towards the bathroom door, “call me 'dog’, or any other stupid bullshit of the like.”

Dave did a little sarcastic salute. “Got it, broseph.”

“Don't,” Karkat hardened his glare.

“Okay, sorry broski.”

Karkat groaned the stepped into the bathroom. “I'm really feeling the unhelpfulness now. Don't fucking follow me in the shower, you infantile waste of a spirit!” And he slammed the door before Dave could respond.

He leaned back against the door with a thunk and sighed deeply. Well, the strangest night in his life had been followed by the strangest morning of his life. Exhaustion tugged at his eyes and limbs, and he let himself relax in a ragdoll state, sliding to the tiled floor. The tiles were cold, as one would obviously expect from a bathroom floor this early in the morning. The shiver that passed through him wasn't enough to make him move, however, and his chin drooped onto his chest.

Okay, so, still haunted. That wasn't a dream or anything. He'd have to just kind of accept that, he guessed. It was much harder to be afraid of a ghost when you realized he was a shitfaced dunce who had never used a coffee machine before. How had he never had coffee in his life? That was just fucking weird. If he didn't swear so much Karkat would think he'd lived some sort of weirdly sheltered life. Maybe if he agreed to tell him more about what the fuck was going on and how ghosts worked, he'd buy him some coffee too and they could see if ghosts could actually eat and drink.

With a sigh, he forced himself to stand, undress, and climb into the shower. So, his plan for today: 1. Stop by the coffee shop and buy overpriced slop in a cup, 2. Stop by Nepeta's and water her plants, 3. Come home and pass out again, hopefully falling into a permanent coma. Great, now he just had to factor in a chatty, unhelpful ghost into that. Oh, and he would have to call his boss about taking a couple days off.

After a very quick shower (he'd washed his hair in record time, afraid to close his eyes in case he opened them to find Dave had broken the 'don’t follow me in the shower’ rule. Great, now he had that song in his head), he toweled off, got dressed, and stepped back out into the living room. He found Dave had indeed not gone near the bathroom, and was now staring at the TV intensely.

“It doesn't have cable or anything,” Karkat said, “it's just got a VCR and a chromecast.”

“Is that some kind of yin-yang thing?” Dave asked, not turning to face him. He was bent double, hand on chin in almost a mock position of one studying the TV. “Oh it doesn't have cable, it just has the most outdated player that they don't even make anymore and a very advanced new technology that makes it so my mini supercomputer in my pocket can control it.”

“It's a logic thing. My movie collection is on tapes and practically everything else in the world is on the internet.” Karkat picked up the spare key to Nepeta's (It was gray and had a little cat face on it. She had been delighted when she found out about custom key copies) and slipped it in his pocket. Then, on a second thought, ran back to his room to grab his wallet.

“So,” Dave asked, stretching his arms above his head, “what are we doing today? Another day of rearranging the store? Not gonna lie, I was mostly fucking with the cans to practice moving things, but I can try some way more interesting things now. I'm thinking, drawing dicks over all the windows in red sharpie.”

“Don't you fucking dare,” Karkat spun on his heel and pointed at him dangerously, “or I will shove your intestines down your throat, completely reversing your digestive system until you are literally spewing shit from your mouth.” It occurred to Karkat about halfway through saying this that he was threatening a ghost, so his threats were even emptier than usual and could probably get him in trouble, but like fuck he was going to just stop. Instead of throwing him out the window like any self-respecting spirit, Dave smirked and laughed a little.

“Anyway,” Karkat continued, turning away and moving quickly to the door, “I don't know what the fuck _you're_ doing today, but I have the day off, so I'm going to take care of my friend's house plants then come back here and stew in my own miserable juices.”

“Sounds like a plan if I ever heard one. A boring as fuck plan, but realistic.”

“Welcome to my life, I’m the most boring asshole this side of equator.”

-

“Okay let me tell you, it’s so fucking weird being a ghost,” Dave was saying somewhere to his right. Karkat determinedly ignored him, stepping forward a bit in line. He had gone to a coffee shop that was on the way to Nepeta’s, rather than bother with Starbucks, but his hopes of avoiding the morning rush of poor fuckers desperate to get their caffeine before work and the instagram-obsessed imbeciles were dashed when he’d walked in and found a line of people reaching almost to the doors. This was the coffee shop he liked the visit the most, especially when he wasn’t feeling up dealing with the people in Starbucks. So all the time, basically. He was here quite often even when his coffee machine was working, actually.

“I’m going to take your silence as ‘Oh wow Dave, what could you possibly mean?’ and keep talking,” Dave said, as if he didn’t know perfectly well that Karkat wasn’t going to talk to thin air in public, “You know how when you walk in front of someone, or talk near them, or anything, they usually show even the littlest sign of noticing? Not even like ‘oh hey I’m paying my full attention to you’ I mean like, a twitch in your direction or looking at you for a second. Yeah, people don’t do that all when you’re a ghost. Totally dead to the world, literally and figuratively. Deader than a piece of roadkill. That flattened skunk ain’t got nothing on my level of dead.”

Karkat heard a commotion near the front of the line and leaned to the side to try and see what had happened. An older lady with a black crop cut had one hand on her hip, the other on the counter, and a deep frown on her face. “I will _not_ be served by you again. Bring out someone else, or the manager!”

“Where do you think you are?” the barista said, her high-pitched voice filled with amusement that thinly covered her annoyed tone. “This is a shitty family coffee shop with, like, three employees.”

“Then get one of the other two!” the woman snapped. “You aren’t fit to work here!”

“And why is that?” the barista asked, dragging out the ‘why’ in false cheeriness as if she was unaware of the insult.

“Because you’re blind!”

“Oh shit,” Dave whispered, “Someone should fucking knock her out.”

Karkat saw red for a second. “Okay, first of all,” he shouted, stepping out from line and getting the attention of both the barista and the lady. A wide, sharp grin spread across the barista’s face when she recognized his voice. “go fuck yourself with whatever minivan you rode in on. Second of all, what the fuck makes you think Terezi can’t work because she’s blind?”

The woman straight up put a hand on her chest like she’d never been so offended. “This is none of your busines. This is between me; the customer, and this young woman, who is providing me a service and it’s my right to-”

“Oh shut the fuck up,” Karkat held up a hand.

The woman outright pouted like a god damn child. “I’m a regular here! I come here every week and she always gets my order wrong!”

“Oh, that’s not cause I’m blind,” Terezi explained sweetly, balancing her chin on one hand, “That’s cause you’re a bitch.”

The customer’s mouth dropped open and she sputtered like a fish. “That’s it! I am reporting you to your manager!” She slapped her hand on the counter.

“Read my fucking lips,” Karkat stomped up to her and pointed at his face as he spoke with enmity, “This. Is. A. Family. Shop. She isn’t hiding a bunch of superiors for you to complain to in the back room.”

“Actually I am,” Terezi said, “I keep them in the closet, next to ableist customers that don’t know when to shut up and leave.”

With a huff, the customer from hell spun on her heel and stormed out, shoving some people at the end of the line away. “What a bitch,” Dave muttered, sticking his hands in his pockets.

“Karkat,” Terezi slapped a hand on the counter and straightened. “Your prize for helping chase off obnoxious customer number 413 of the day is playing barista for a bit!”

Karkat facepalmed and leaned against the divide between the area behind the counter and sighed. “Ugh, no. I just need some coffee then I gotta go.”

“Is someone going to die if you don't stop and help a poor blind girl?” Terezi folded her hands and struck a mock damsel in distress pose. “Besides, your coffee’s on the house if you do.”

Karkat rolled his eyes and kicked past the divider. “Fine, but coffee first. And not long!”

“Yes!” Terezi clapped as if high-fiving herself, then turned her attention to the next customer, who was smiling awkwardly after being silent through the whole ordeal. While she got their name and order, Karkat started up a cup of coffee for himself and internally calculated how much time he could spend here. He knew how to work everything and was quite quick with it; he'd never actually worked here as a paid employee, but since he and Terezi had been friends for years he was basically considered part of the family and would help out sometimes. He would come in every once in awhile to chat with Terezi and her sister, Latula, when he was in one of those rare 'i can actually stand to talk to other people’ moods. Even sometimes when he wasn't. It was better than dealing with himself for too long.

“Are you totally alone here today?” Karkat asked, stepping out of the way so Terezi could start on that customer’s order while he nursed his own cup.

“Yep,” she said, scribbling a name on the empty cup she held. It was surprisingly legible and basically pointless.

“Not even Vriska could drag her spider slime-riddled flesh prison down here to help you?” He took a sip of his coffee. It scalded the roof of his mouth but he failed to give a fuck. “Did she just assume I'd be walking by on a morning where my coffee machine broke and I just happened to drop in and agree to help?”

“1,” Terezi held up a finger in his general direction. “Of course you agreed to help. You always do, admit it, you love me too much to let me suffer alone.” Karkat nodded reluctantly, though she couldn't see him. “2,” she held up a second finger, “Vriska called in today.”

As she said it, Terezi's usual grin shrank away, being replaced with a thin-lipped expression. Before she could elaborate on that, the next customer tapped on the counter obnoxiously. “Yeah we're getting to you, you shitmaggot!” Karkat snapped.

For the next few minutes, they focused on getting each customer's orders and giving them their coffee. Dave was surprisingly well-behaved during this, remaining on the customer side of the counter and making harmless comments that required no acknowledgement.

“Oh my god, that grown man literally has a neck beard. He's a walking meme. You should offer him a fedora.”

“Look at that; that girl is wearing a Mortal Kombat shirt and her dad is wearing a Twilight shirt. I salute their irony, I'm glad to see the masses understand.”

“Oh man, this guy's such a fuckboi. He's literally texting a girl the 'oh shit without me’ line. I don't think he's even quoting the meme. Dude, you should fuck up his order.”

When there was a pause in customers, Karkat sighed and thunked his head down on the counter. “Vriska better be bedridden with the goddamn black plague right now, or there's no excuse for subjecting you to this.”

Terezi leaned against the wall next to him, crossing her arms and staring up at the ceiling. Or, pointing her face up at the ceiling. Her lips had flattened again and her eyebrows were drawn. “She didn't actually give a reason. She just called, shouted 'hey I won't be there today good luck!!!!!!!!’ then hung up.” She let out a small, humorless chuckle. “She's been really weird lately. Weirder than she usually acts. Less suggesting murder and theft and more disappearing and stuff.”

Karkat frowned. “You think she's stumbled ass-first into some life-threatening, actual trouble?”

Terezi nodded, then shook her head. “I don't know? I thought she'd always come to me when she gets in trouble. I'm used to dragging her out of peril by her hair. What trouble could be so bad she couldn't tell me?”

“Oh fuck,” Karkat said, lifting up his head, “she didn't kill someone, did she? Like actually commit manslaughter? If so, Kanaya owes me $50.”

Terezi laughed. “Oh Kanny, you should never bet for Vriska’s morals. But, no, she wouldn't really.” Suddenly she jumped forward and slammed a fist on the counter again with determination. “But don't worry, I'm on the case! I'll figure out what’s wrong with her and save her spider-obsessed ass once again!”

“Wasn't worried,” Karkat muttered.

“I hear so much concern in your voice, Karkat!” Terezi grabbed his face and swished it between her hands, speaking in mock urgency. “I am afraid for our dear friend’s life too! But if you're that worried, I will start the investigation as soon as possible to alleviate your fears!”

“I'm pretty sure I'll survive til later.”

“Okay, okay, no need to rush me!” Terezi stripped off her apron and threw it up dramatically. “Good police work takes time, so I'll have to leave immediately.” With that, she vaulted over the counter and ran towards the door.

“Oh my god this was just an excuse to leave work early wasn’t it dammit come back Terezi you can'tjustleavemehereasshole!” Karkat shouted after her, but she was already gone. All the customers stared at him as he banged his head against a wall and shouted obscenities.

Dave was laughing, not a big guffaw but a weird, flat laugh. It was still enough to make Karkat want to punch him. “I like her.”

Karkat growled. His phone pinged in his pocket and he pulled it out.

GC: L4TUL4 W1LL B3 TH3R3 TO T4K3 OV3R 4T 2 >;D

Nepeta's plants were probably going to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, you can talk to me at my tumblr: unluckyrose.tumblr.com


	4. Karkat Consult

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mysteries abound, no one knows what's going on, i want to sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not like formatting pesterlogs  
> sorry for an eternity between updates, I promise I'm not stopping with this story!

“Here, take this,” Karkat handed a cup of coffee to Dave while he dug in his pocket.

Dave looked very startled as he took the coffee. He clutched the cup tightly with both hands and stood stiffly. “Woah, you know I'll probably drop this, right?”

“I don't care, I got it for you anyway.” He shook the key in the lock and shoved his forearm into the door. It popped open, but he stayed in the doorway and turned back to Dave. “If you're going to shut your face for long enough to try and pour shitty caffeine down your semi-corporeal throat, do it out here before you make a mess in Nepeta's house.”

“So you're telling me it's not good idea to test my post-mortem drinking abilities on the carpeting, good idea.” Dave hesitated, holding the cup firmly and staring at the liquid. Karkat crossed his arms and tapped his foot impatiently. He technically could just walk in and go about his business, but he had to admit he was curious about how this ghost shit worked. Besides, he bothered to get him a coffee, he might as well stay to watch.

“Okay, I got this. I totally got this. I'm gonna drink this coffee like the thirstiest bitch. I text the barista every day and fangirl scream every time I see him, that's how thirsty I am.” He kept staring at the coffee. Karkat tapped his foot even quicker. “I'm thirsty like a man stranded in a desert for years. I keep seeing oasises of sweet hydration on the horizon, but damn, they're just fucking gone every time I get close. Then here I am, I finally got the liquid I crave.”

“Is your plan to wait until it evaporates and you absorb it? Or are you going to wait until I die of old age and we both stand here as ghosts for all eternity?” Karkat asked.

“Those are both great plans, now I can't choose.”

“Drink the fucking coffee, you translucent shitstain.”

Dave nodded, and started slowly raising the cup to his lips. Karkat found himself leaning closer as the suspense built. The liquid sloshed forward, Dave tipped his head back, and-

Coffee splashed onto the grass. Karkat snorted with laughter and jumped back, just avoiding the hot liquid. As the puddle soaked into the ground, the ghost stared mournfully downwards. “There it goes, with all my hopes and dreams. Why is the afterlife worth living if I can’t have coffee?”

Karkat muffled his laughter behind his hand, shook his head, and stepped inside.

Nepeta's house was as over-the-top cute as humanly possible. Everything in it was brightly colored, mostly green and red, and covered with a layer of cat hair. A number of plants were on every horizontal surface, with the less sturdy ones hanging from the ceiling so the cats couldn't get them. Within the living room was soft, bright green carpeting and walls that were white and fingerpainted. By which he meant Nepeta had made the unsettling decision to draw pictures of her friends on the walls in red paint. Like cave painting in blood. That was less overly cute. That was just… very Nepeta.

“Wow, this house sure is… a place,” Dave commented, stepping in after Karkat and taking in the room.

“Can you kindly keep your pointless statements to yourself? I have plants to water.” Karkat made his way to the kitchen, pulled a pitcher from the cabinet, and filled it was tap water.

“These plants look kinda sad, man.” Karkat glanced over his shoulder at Dave, who reached out to prod a drying leaf on an ivy on the counter. The plant rustled mournfully at the slight movement. Karkat hefted the pitcher out of the sink and stepped over to the plant, shouldering Dave out of the way. The ghost wasn't solid enough for him to actually shove him, but Dave got the idea and hopped back a few feet.

“That's because Nepeta's been on vacation, and life decided to pull down it's pants and take a huge shit on me the last few days so no one's been around to water them.” He tilted the pitcher very carefully and spilled some water onto the drying plant. The soil grew just a little darker.

“Oooh, someone's been irresponsible,” Dave said. He stuck his hands in his pockets and spun on his heel, heading back into the living room. Karkat ignored him and moved to the next plant, on a ledge in the kitchen doorway. It was in a short pot with so many cracks in it from falling over he wondered if it was just a design on it for a second.

“This girl really likes bright colors… and cats?” Dave nudged a little white food bowl with a gray pattern on it. Surprisingly it took him until he saw the food bowl to realize cats lived here, since everything was coated with an obvious layer of fur. “Don't tell me you left the cats here unfed while you slaved away in retail hell?”

“They're staying with her sister,” Karkat explained, “She spoiled them so fucking much so they can't go more than a day without scratching someone's eyes out for attention. No one had the time to sit and babysit her crazy cat lady herd.”

Dave snorted. As Karkat moved from plant to plant in the living room, the ghost moved along the wall with the fingerpaintings, brushing the little figures with the tips of his fingers. “That just makes it sound like she has a herd of crazy cat ladies. 'Well it's time to feed my pets’ and she pours food into a bowl and they just run into the room. A dozen tiny old ladies running around, eating kibble and scratching the furniture with their walkers. Well, I guess not running because of their old, tiny bones. Maybe she just took good care of her crazy lady herd, and they stayed fit. Get ready to see them win the next Olympic gold medal in; 'Old Lady 100-meter dash!’ Perfectly trained and fed a good diet of whatever old ladies eat. Who will win? Agnes is young and full of ambition, Mildred is old but she's got heart and trained hard for this, but Helen is the best tiny cat lady athlete in the business! The race is starting and--”

Dave suddenly went silent. Karkat looked up from the petunia to see what happened. The ghost had paused on the wall and was completely still, almost like he was staring at one of the paintings, but it was hard to tell for sure where his eyes pointed thanks to the sunglasses.

“So who won?” Karkat asked. Dave jolted, then turned and leaned against the wall casually.

“Mildred, of course. She trained hard for this.” He nodded to the drawings on the wall. “What are these anyway?”

“Nepeta's friends and family. In cave painting form. Don't fucking ask me why, I don't have a clue what goes on in her head.” Karkat set down the water pitcher and looked around. There weren't any other plants he could think of. He'd managed to make a full loop around the living room while Dave ranted, and now it all seemed done. Thank fuck. “She used to do this crazy thing where she'd try and set up people and draw shipping charts on her walls, either she grew out of that or ran out of wall space and now it's just a really disturbing and pointless mural of the Leijon family and co.”

Though he hated to admit it, and despite his harsh words, his mouth twitched up in a small smile as he pointed to doodle of a man with a frowny face and messy hair. “There's me.”

“Hah, accurate.”

Karkat swung to punch him, but his fist went right through the ghost. Dave laughed more and Karkat grumbled. “Why am I even explaining all this shit to you?”

“You have nothing else to do with me than make small talk?” Dave suggested. He quickly slid through Karkat (again, the apparition was oddly warm, like a ray of sunlight) and towards the door. “Anyway we'd better be heading back so I can annoy you under your own roof, right?”

Well he was suddenly eager to leave. “Don't think I forgot about making you tell me why the fuck you're haunting me, and who you are.”

“Nah, I don't really wanna.”

“Oh fuck you, shitweasel, I'll make you 'wanna!’”

\----

 

As soon as Karkat pushed open his apartment door, his phone buzzed. This stopped him mid-sentence, as he was currently bickering with Dave about tv couples.

 

GC: K4RK4T!

GC:1 H4V3 4N R3PORT ON OUR ONGO1NG 1NV3TIG4TION

 

“I’m just saying, no matter how romantic you think it is, it was creepy and possessive as hell- are you listening?” Dave asked, having walked into the apartment ahead of him (right through the door while Karkat had to stop and unlock it- fucking show off) and turned to see him staring at his phone. “That’s so rude man, here I am, engaging in your interests by debating fictional couples with you, and you're not even listening.”

“Shut the fuck up, I _just_ got a text” Karkat waved him off and kicked the door shut behind him.

 

CG: LET ME GUESS

CG: VRISKA IS *GASP*

CG: A FUCKING WEIRD PERSON WHO DOES WEIRD THINGS?

GC: Y3S BUT TH1S 1S 4 D1FF3R3NT W31RD

GC: TH1S 1S NOT YOUR RUN OF TH3 M1LL, 3V3RYD4Y VR1SK4 W31RDN3SS

GC: TH1S 1S 4DV4NC3D W31RDN3SS

CG: IS THAT THE SCIENTIFIC TERM

GC: Y3S 1 JUST CO1N3D 1T

CG: OKAY, ILL BITE.

CG: OUR SUBJECT HAS ‘ADVANCED WEIRDNESS’.

CG: WHAT ARE THE DETAILS?

GC: TH3 SUBJ3CT H4S B3COM3 JUMPY

GC: SH3S 4LW4YS LOOK1NG OV3R H3R SHOULD3R 4ND N34RLY W3NT THROUGH TH3 ROOF WH3N T4PP3D H3R TO G3T H3R 4TT3NT1ON

GC: SH3 WOULDNT 3V3N GO FOR 4 W4LK W1TH M3 OR L34V3 H3R HOUS3, K3PT M4K1NG 3XCUS3S 4BOUT TH3 SUN B31NG TOO BR1GHT

GC: 1 TR13D TO CONV1NC3 H3R TO DR1V3 M3 B4CK TO THE SHOP 4ND SH3 FR34K3D OUT L1K3 1’D SUGG3ST3D W3 JUMP OFF 4 CL1FF???

CG: I HAVE A HARD TIME BELIEVING VRISKA WOULD BE UPSET ABOUT THAT SUGGESTION

CG: SHE’D PROBABLY PUT MONEY ON WHO HITS THE ROCKS FIRST

GC: TH4T’S TRU3, BUT YOU KNOW WH4T 1 M34N

CG: SO SHES SCARED OF SOMETHING?

CG: YOU REALLY HAVE NO CLUE IF SHE COULD HAVE GOTTEN INTO ACTUAL TROUBLE?

GC: SH3’S 4 J3RK BUT 1 DONT TH1NK SH3’D DO 4NYTH1NG 4CTU4LLY ILL3G4L?

GC: OR 1F SH3 H4D SH3 WOULD H4V3 CONF1D3D 1N M3

GC: WH4T TROUBL3 COULD SH3 G3T 1N TH4T SH3 WOULDNT T3LL M3 4BOUT?

CG: I WASNT UNDER THE IMPRESSION SHE MADE THE BEST FUCKING DECISIONS, TEREZI

GC: OK4Y TH4T’S F41R BUT WH4TS YOUR SUGG3T1ON FOR HOW TO H3LP H3R?

CG: I HAVE TO HAVE A SUGGESTION ON HOW TO HELP HER?

GC: Y3S!

GC: K4RK4T 1M GO1NG TO L3T YOU ON ON 4 SUP3R B1G S3CR3T

GC: 4 R34LLY SUP3R S3CR3T S3CR3T TH4T’S V3RY S3CR3T

GC: 1 DONT 4LW4YS KNOW WH4T TO DO 1N S1TU4T1ONS WH3R3 MY FR13NDS N33D H3LP

GC: BUT YOU USU4LLY DO!

GC: SO TH1S WHOL3 TH1NG WH3R3 1 1NCLUD3 YOU 1N TH3 1NV3ST1G4T1ON 1S MY W4Y OF 4SK1NG FOR ADV1C3 ON HOW TO F1X MY FR13ND

 

Karkat groaned and rolled his whole head. Now he felt guilty.

 

CG: OKAY OKAY

CG: SHE PROBABLY WONT ACTUALLY TURN UP DEAD OR WHATEVER

CG: I DONT HAVE ANY ACTUAL ADVICE EXCEPT TALKING TO HER AND TRYING TO GET HER TO TELL YOU WHAT’S GOING ON?

GC: G33 TH4NKS

CG: IM SORRY

CG: THE ONLY THING TO REALLY DO IS HOLD HER DOWN AND GET HER TO EXPLAIN

CG: YOU CANT HELP SOMEONE WHO DOESNT WANT HELP

CG: THATS ALL I GOT

GC: 1 GU3SS

GC: TH4NKS

 

“Ooh, drama.” Dave’s voice came from right behind Karkat’s shoulder. He flipped around, almost dropping his phone.

“Wow, fuck off?? Why were you reading over my shoulder?” He snapped.

“It’s really boring being a ghost and it’ll annoy you?” Dave shrugged, then walked backwards through the couch and flopped down on the cushions. “I don’t think you totally understand that all I have to do is annoy you in every way. That’s what it means to be dead I guess.”

“Whatever.” Karkat rolled his eyes and looked back to his phone, only to see Terezi had signed off. He sighed and flopped backwards onto the couch as well. Since he was standing right next to the arm, this resulted in him landing with his legs hanging off the edge and his head falling off the front. He didn’t move into a more comfortable position, choosing to remain half upside-down and glaring at his phone.

“So, fill me in on the drama,” Dave said, leaning over so Karkat could see him upside-down. “My sad, lonely, non-life is empty without the latest gossip. Who exactly are all these friends that keep bothering you and abandoning you at coffee shops?”

Karkat narrowed his eyes at him. “I don’t want to tell you shit, douchewaffle. Stop asking me for my life details and get out of my house.”

“Nah.”

“I haven’t bothered you for any personal details. You just waltzed into my fucking life, made one of my friends think I’ve gone batshit, and won’t explain a damn thing,” Karkat grumbled. Then, a thought occured. “You know what? I’ll fucking trade you. Explain some shit about who you are and what you’re even doing here, and I’ll tell you more about my friends. Fair trade?”

Dave leaned back suddenly, a deep frown on his face. Karkat sat up to see the ghost now fiddling with his hands. “...I guess? I mean, I can say some things but I don’t want to talk about all of it?”

“You just want to keep being a cryptic shit, don’t you?” Karkat rolled his eyes. “Fine, what questions do you have? Let’s get this over with.”

Dave seemed to shake himself and lay back against the opposite couch arm, too obviously faking calm. “Okay, what’s up with the coffee chick?”

Karkat raised an eyebrow, but answered anyway. “Terezi Pyrope. She’s been my friend for years, since sophmore year of high school. She’s blind. Her family owns a coffee shop. Her friend is a fucking insane shitbag that just likes to cause trouble, Vriska Serket.”

“The Vriska that’s going crazy?”

“If _I’m_ not the one going crazy. I’m fucking pleased as the most bitter punch that Terezi trusts me to ask for help, but I don’t have a clue what to do about Vriska or anything she does.” Karkat rubs his face as if to wipe away the thought. “Done. Have ghosts always been a thing?”

Dave shrugs again. “Far as I know. I just kinda woke up and was a ghost. Who was the one who came to make sure you weren’t going psychotic last night?”

“Wait, I gave you way more fucking information than that!” Karkat snapped, “It’s not your turn yet!”

“I answered your question,” Dave defended.

“This isn’t some mythological sphinx shit, I should get more than a one sentence question!” Karkat flipped over so he was sitting properly on the couch and pointed threateningly at the ghost. “You just died and woke back up? You just knew to come haunt me of all people? You just went ‘well fuck me, i got myself killed, guess i gotta go be a supernatural pain in the ass to some random grocery store worker!’?”

“Basically.” Dave was unaffected by Karkat’s outburst. “I died, I stood back up, and knew what to do. I mean, I didn’t just stand back up like ‘wow I suddenly know every single thing ever’ I just was like ‘Oh fuck I’m a ghost, what do I do now?’ and sorta knew. Like when you’re a baby and you just start breathing instead of suffocating cause you’ve never breathed before. I knew how to haunt. That’s really it.”

“So what’s your goal then? Scare me to death by destroying my kitchen appliances and making my job harder?”

“Same thing all ghosts want,” Dave’s voice somehow even more even and devoid of emotion. “Moving on.”

Karkat’s eyes went wide and he fell back. Oh. That was surprisingly depressing. “Oh,” he said out loud.

A long silence stretched. Both boys stared at each other- or maybe, it was hard to tell because of the shades. Karkat thought he could hear a clock ticking somewhere despite not having one in his apartment. Just to add to the awkward heaviness in the air.

“Her name is Kanaya Maryam,” he finally explained, moving on. “She’s Vriska’s ex. After I became friends with Terezi and Vriska I met her, and she kinda shoved her way into our friend group so she stayed after she and Vriska broke up. They were kind of awful for each other. Kanaya cares too much for her own good sometimes. Don’t let that fool you though, she has the meanest sense of humor sometimes. The kind where you don’t usually realize you’ve been insulted until an hour later. Fucking dry humor, and smart.” Karkat couldn’t help but feel the smallest smile grow on his lips as he rants, waving his hands around to emphasize his words.

“Hah, sounds like someone I know,” Dave smirks a little. His hands start fidgeting again. “I did choose you to haunt, but not for any real reason. I was just wandering around all disoriented and shit, saw you, and instinctively latched on. Thought you were the best choice for some reason.”

“Best choice for what?”

“Haunting?” Dave shrugged. “I gotta haunt someone, I just thought you were the best to haunt? Dude, I’d been wandering around town for like, weeks, I wasn’t thinking all that clearly. It took me forever to stop fucking panicking and actually start doing ghosty shit.”

“Well, I’m just the luckiest motherfucker.” Karkat crossed his arms. “So you just died, somewhere in town, stood up, knew you had to haunt instead of breathing, and chose to pick on me. Great. What’s your next question?”

“That chick who had all the fingerpaintings and made you water her plants,” Dave started. Karkat opened his mouth, about to explain who Nepeta was and how he met her as well, but was surprised when Dave kept talking, “she a big family person? Have you met everyone else on that weird wall she had?”

Karkat blinked, a little taken aback. “No, not all of them. She really cares about her family but other than her sister I haven’t met them. I don’t even know the names of half the people on her wall. Why?”

Dave shrugged again. He keeps doing that. Can’t he find another, more committal motion? “That wall’s fuckin weird. Like, something I’d expect to see on the wall of a cave where someone’s been stuck for years and their only solace is to draw what they can remember of everyone they know on the stone walls around them. I was just curious about it.”

“Don’t even question it. All my friends are fucking insane dumbasses on the best of days.” Karkat narrowed his eyes again. It was his turn to ask again. “What about you? You died recently, right? Who are your friends and family? Are they nearby? Did you ever consider haunting one of them instead of a total stranger?”

Dave tensed, and his frown returned. Then, in a blink, he was suddenly standing on the other side of the room and threatening to lean right through the wall. “You know, I think that’s all I feel like answering today. My curiosity is sated as shit right now. Thank you for your wisdom, sage, but I think I’m gonna go for walk. Enjoy your first ghost-free moment.”

Before Karkat could say anything else, Dave was gone. Well, fuck. He guessed he hit a nerve.

He flopped back into the couch, sinking deeply into the cushion and staring at the ceiling. He hadn’t considered that before, really. Dave was _dead_. Like, he was a kid around his age who’s just fucking dead. And confused. Where were Dave’s friends and family? How would they react to knowing he was still around? You’d think the first thing he would try would be saying goodbye to his family, or trying to find a way out of death, or anything normal you would do upon finding out you were dead. He’s so young.

It must be awful, actually.

Karkat shook his head. He needed to stop thinking about it. Dave was a ghost, a malicious supernatural being that had chosen to dedicate his afterlife to annoying him. He still couldn’t trust that he wasn’t manipulating him or trying to cause him harm. He’s an enemy, part of a world Karkat didn’t understand yet and most likely trying to cause him harm. He shouldn’t be thinking about how to make his enemies feel better, or sitting down chatting with them.

He glanced back down at his phone. Maybe he should save his sage advice for someone who deserves his help. It was still daytime for quite awhile, so he stood, grabbed his keys, and stepped outside again.

\----

 

He wasn’t quite sure what he was doing as he made the turn to Terezi’s coffee shop. If he was the advice guy, he didn’t want to just leave her worried. He knew he would feel awful if Terezi or Kanaya or Nepeta were acting weird and he had no idea how to help them. Hell, _he_ was acting weird and his friends would probably be super fucking confused soon. Maybe he could talk it over with her, give her more of his attention now.

When the shop came into view, he spotted exactly who he was looking for. Exactly the two people he was looking for, actually. It seemed Terezi had been able to convince Vriska to come to work, because both girls were leaning against the outside wall of the shop. Vriska had her arms crossed, one shoulder on the concrete wall that was painted to look like bricks, and her eye fixed on Terezi. He says ‘eye’ because, shockingly, one seems to be bandaged. He doesn’t remember her getting hurt recently, how long has she had that?

He started to close the distance, so many conversation starters going through his head. Should he just right away ask Vriska what the fuck was up with her? Ask what was wrong with her eye? Get pissed at her for leaving Terezi to work alone today?

Before he could decide on one, just as he’s out of hearing distance, he stops. He had felt a familiar warmth in the air. Well, a warmth that had only just become familiar. He turned around, mouth open to yell at Dave for startling him, but- no one was there. Huh.

He shook his head and continued walking. When he looked back at his destination, he found Vriska turned to look at him. Her one eye was narrowed. He felt a prickle of annoyance. He was here to help her and she already looked pissy about it. God.

“Hey, Karkat!” Terezi waved in his direction. He wondered how she knew he was even here. “Look who the cat dragged out of the house. Me being the cat. Dragging her here.”

“That didn’t work at all,” Vriska said, her eye not leaving Karkat. “Leave the sayings to the professionals, Rezi.”

“What are you talking about, I am the professional.” Terezi stepped away from the wall. “What brings you, Karkat? Here to get an update on the investigation?”

“I suddenly find I couldn’t give less of a fuck,” Karkat answered. “I was bored so I stopped by for coffee. Good to see you’re not dead, spiderfuck.”

“Good to see your insults still make no sense, dumbass,” Vriska did a little sarcastic salute. Karkat might have imagined it, but she seemed so much more low-energy than usual. Now that he was closer, he saw a bag big enough to hold other bags in it underneath her exposed eye and her skin was paler than usual. Maybe Terezi was right to be so worried. He’d never know Vriska to be exhausted before. Even when Vriska was tired she always had a sort of determined energy around her, like she was ready to throw down even on ten minutes of sleep.

“What happened to your eye?” he asked.

“Accident,” Vriska said curtly. “I know it’s distracting that my incredibly attractive face is now marred but don’t let me get in the way of you getting your coffee and fucking off.”

“Vriska,” Terezi said, warningly.

“I know you’re all horribly interested in my life, but have you guys considered it’s none of your fucking business?” Vriska snapped, pushing off the wall. Standing up straight, she towered over Karkat. “I’m _fine_ , can you all stop spending every second bothering me?”

He felt  a rush of anger. This is what he got for trying to help his friends? God, he should have just stayed the fuck home. “Okay, you ungrateful spiderbitch, maybe you-” Karkat started, taking a step forward and pointing threateningly at her. However, he stopped when he noticed the look on the girl’s face.

Vriska’s one eye was open wide. Her angry stance had faded and she stepped back, one arm going up in front of herself on instinct. Her other arm went in front of Terezi, who looked incredibly confused and had her head tilted in an attempt to hear what was going on. Karkat followed her gaze, turning around slowly to see-

It was just Dave. The spectre was standing a few meters away, hands in his pockets and an eyebrow raised over his shades. He pulled one hand out of his pocket to give Karkat a small wave.

Karkat looked back to Vriska. Then to Dave. Then to Vriska. The world seemed to be on pause as all four of them stood stock still. It was like an old western-style duel. Eventually one of them would scream and someone would get shot, or something.

Karkat’s attention finally fell on Vriska. “Can you- you can fucking see him, can’t you?”

Vriska looked down at him, somehow appearing even more startled. “You- he’s your’s?” Then, in a blink, both girls were gone. Vriska raced down the street at top speed, dragging Terezi behind her, the latter screaming in confusion.

Karkat ran after her. “Wait! What the fuck do you know?!”

He was out of breath too quickly, and both girls were way more fit and had longer legs than him. He was left watching them disappear into the distance, even more confused than he was before.

What the fuck was even going on anymore?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really /really/ appreciate comments, thanks guys
> 
> Come screme at me unluckyrose.tumblr.com 


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